When Mickey was little, he liked butterflies.
It was a fact few people knew since his father had beaten the urge out of him, but sometimes he still liked to sit in the gardens and look for glimpses of pretty wings and imagine what it would be like to fly far far away, delicate and free on the wind.
Lace was pretty, and while he didn’t often get the chance to flaunt it his collection of it sat safely tucked away at the bottom of his wardrobe. Sometimes, occasionally, he’d break it out, admire himself in the mirror. Maybe even find someone else to admire him in it.
As he watched the frankly gargantuan Adonis across the bar cup a glass in his hands like he was afraid to break it, Mickey considered all these things.
He was in the mood for bottoming, was the thing, so he’d come to this club hoping one of the regulars might be tempted. When he’d seen bearded Adonis with the intense eyes tucked away in the corner, he’d set his sights on him immediately.
Grinning and ordering another drink, he crossed the bar and set it down in front of him, plucking the empty glass from his hands.
The man startled, then frowned at him, and then the drink Mickey had brought. “Do I-“
“No,” Mickey purred, “but I’d like to know you if you don’t mind.”
Adonis- whose eyes were stunning this close- pursed his scarred lower lip. “I don’t drink the hard stuff anymore.”
“Shame,” Mickey said, downing the glass in his hands, “guess I’ll just have to drink enough for both of us and hope you don’t take advantage.”
He gave him a saucy wink, and Adonis rolled his eyes, turning away. Well, that wouldn’t do…
“Mickey,” he said, and grinned when Adonis looked back at him. “Miranda. Mickey Miranda. Do I have to guess your name or can I keep calling you a Greek god?”
“Majid,” said Majid, giving Mickey a firm once over. “Mickey like the mouse?”
“If it pleases a partner,” Mickey said, wetting his lower lip and raking his eyes up and down Majid’s legs. His jeans were tight, showing off thighs that Mickey would love to be crushed by and a bulge that made his mouth water.
“You’re shameless, aren’t you?” Majid said, voice lowering, and Mickey couldn’t help but grin. Hook. Line. Sinker.
“Oh you have no idea,” Mickey ran a finger along Majid’s bicep, almost shuddering when he realized that the man was pretty much crafted from stone. “I tend to get what I want.”
“So you're a spoiled little brat,” Majid said, finally cracking a smile. It made his eyes crinkle and really, it was unfair how good-looking one person could be. “And you’re looking for…”
“Someone to wreck me,” Mickey breathed, feeling his slacks tighten. “I have a pretty collection of lace at home. I wouldn’t mind dressing up for you, big guy.”
“If I stuff my cock in your mouth, does it shut you up?” Majid wondered aloud, and Mickey groaned, sick of waiting, leaning up to kiss him.
Majid had a clever tongue, as it turned out, and an affinity for Mickey’s lower lip. He dug his teeth in and Mickey whined, feeling like he might float out of his skull if he didn’t get fucked soon.
“Your place,” Majid said when they pulled apart. “It far?”
“Five minutes by cab, fifteen by foot,” Mickey said darkly, “factoring in that if I have to watch your thighs while we walk I will have to drag you into an alley and suck you off.”
“That’s not any incentive to get a cab,”
“I’ll also strangle you if you make me walk anywhere right now,” Mickey growled, clambering to his feet and grabbing Majid by the sleeve, trying valiantly to drag him out. “Come on.”
“Spoiled,” Majid sighed, rising and putting both hands on Mickey’s hips, reeling him back so that magnificent bulge was pressed against Mickey’s ass.
“You need to behave,” Majid said in Mickey’s ear, “or I will leave you high and dry. You’re not the boss here, baby.”
Mickey shuddered and almost collapsed when Majid bit down hard on Mickey’s ear, then led him outside.
“We walk,” Majid said once they hit the Berlin air, “And you keep your hands to yourself, and I’ll give you a reward for being a good boy.”
“So, spoiled and rich?” Majid said as Mickey locked the door behind them, eyes glancing around his flat.
“Are you going to talk, or are we going to fuck?” Mickey said, and Majid sighed, took off his coat, and promptly shoved Mickey into the wall hard enough that a picture frame near his head rattled.
“I am sick of the mouth on you,” Majid said, one arm across his chest and the other firm on his hip, eyes locked on his. “You never stop talking, do you?”
“Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?” Mickey challenged, and Majid growled, low and dangerous.
His head snapped forward, mouths colliding hard enough that their teeth clacked together, but Mickey hardly cared when Majid was attempting to excavate his tonsils with his tongue. Blunt nails dug into his hip, and Mickey groaned, bucking against him to try and get friction, to be released, anything at all so that he could move things forward.
Majid growled again, and suddenly Mickey was being dragged away from the wall by his hair.
“Bedroom,” Majid barked, “where is it?”
Mickey tried to move, but Majid shoved him down to his knees, eyes blazing. “Stay.”
Mickey’s eyes widened, and majid smirked down at him. “Where’s that lace you promised me, hm baby?”
“I,” Mickey swallowed, mouth dry because he was eye level with that bulge, and was it even bigger down here? “I can get it.”
“And will you behave?” Mickey was nodding frantically before he even finishes the question, halfway to drooling if it meant getting to see Majid’s cock.
“Good boy,” Majid said and waved for him to go ahead. “Lead the way.”
But he didn’t help Mickey up, and he didn’t say he could get up.
Slowly, deliberately, Mickey crawled forward on his knees.
Majid beamed at him. “Good boy.”
Mickey bit back a purr, crawling into his bedroom and over to his wardrobe to pull out his favorite silk teddy and lace panties, along with a thin black velvet collar.
He held them up to Majid, who expected each one, then chuckled darkly.
“Maybe I should be calling you a good girl, hm?” He asked, and Mickey flushed high in his cheeks, ire rising with his humiliation.
“Do you or do you not want to fuck me?” Mickey said, and Majid looked at him again, eyes dark and piercing Mickey’s very soul.
“I’ve been very patient with you,” Majid said, crossing to stand in front of him, “but I will turn your ass red if you don’t shut up.”
Mickey stared up at him defiantly, lips curling up in a smirk. “Is that a promise?”
Majid’s smile turned wicked.
He grabbed Mickey by the hair and dragged him upwards and face down onto his bed, making Mickey shriek with the sudden pain/pleasure mix that rushed through him. His pants were practically torn off, and before he could say something about it (because they were expensive) a flat palm connected with his left ass cheek hard enough to send him forward against the bed.
And then it connected again, and again, and again, and Mickey was shouting with it, arching back into the strikes. “That’s it, that’s fucking it, fuck, harder!”
“You little- fucking- slut-“ Majid grunted, punctuating each word with a spank, “such a whore, spreading your fucking legs like that, you fucking love this, don’t you?”
“Yes! Yes, please, please hit me harder, oh god!”
He was sure at some point he’d slipped into German, or maybe Italian, but Majid just kept on going, harder, alternating cheeks, until his whole body tingled.
Mickey was so hard that he was dripping against the sheets, grinding down a little. When Majid noticed it he flipped him over like Mickey weighed nothing, grabbing his hips and pinning him to the bed.
Mickey stared up at him, panting, and Majid leaned down and licked into his open mouth, grinding his clothed cock against Mickey’s for a few blissful moments.
And then Majid pulled back, and breathed “you don’t get to come until I say so, understood?”
Mickey arched up against him, baring his throat. “Yes sir.”
Majid’s eyes, somehow, darkened even more.
“Good girl,” Majid sat back and pulled his shirt over his head, watching as Mickey blatantly ogled him. “Like what you see?”
Mickey nodded, because holy fuck, Majid was built like a fucking house, but then Majid finally took off his pants and, well, Mickey’s train of thought not so much went off the rails as it evaporated into thin air.
“Oh god, I want to suck you,” Mickey babbled, “please, please let me suck you so you can come all over my face, please?”
“You can suck me as soon as you get changed,” Majid said, nodding to the lace and silk sitting on the bed. Mickey had never stripped out of a shirt so fast in his life, wanting to put that hard cock in his mouth before he died with how much he wanted it.
With the teddy and panties on, Mickey knelt on the edge of the bed, staring up at Majid pleadingly while he twisted the collar between his fingers.
With a low rumbling hum, he tied it around Mickey’s neck.
“There, gorgeous,” Majid praised. “I can’t wait to wreck that tight pussy of yours.”
Mickey whined, staring at the cock in front of him, eyes as pleading as they could get.
“Please let me suck your cock!” Mickey said, and darted forward so fast he almost poked himself in the eye when Majid nodded.
He heard the man laugh, then groan when Mickey immediately sunk down to the root.
“Oh you- your fucking mouth, Mickey.”
Mickey grinned, running his tongue along the fat vein on the underside. Majid was circumcised, girthy, and Mickey was drooling all over the bed from trying to fit him all in his mouth.
Long fingers tangled in Mickey’s hair and Mickey hummed encouragingly, groaning around his mouthful when Majid tightened his fingers and started moving Mickey’s head back and forth.
He glanced up at him, seeing the deep divot between his pecs and the underside of his chin where his head was thrown back in pleasure. Mickey grinned, sucking harder.
Majid’s breathing sped up, and he stopped moving Mickey’s head in favor of fucking his hips into Mickey’s mouth. Tears formed in the corners of Mickey’s eyes from lack of oxygen and the blissful feeling of a cock hitting the back of his throat. He opened his mouth and let it happen.
Majid jerked his head back, spitting a broken “fuck!” And fisting his cock, jerking it as hard and fast as he could until cum spattered across Mickey’s face and open mouth.
“God, look at you,” Majid said after panting for a long moment, “you’re a fucking mess.”
Mickey grinned at him, licking cum from everywhere his tongue could reach. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the part of his brain that still listened to logic was screaming at him for not insisting on a condom, but…
“Do you still want to fuck me?” Mickey asked, and Majid blinked down at him, “do you still want me to fuck you?”
“Hell yes,” Mickey said, sparing a glance for his poor neglected cock, hard and aching against the lace of his panties. Majid followed his line of sight before chuckling and shoving him back gently on the bed.
“Well then,” Majid rumbled, leaning over him, beautiful, “I guess you’ve been good for me. Lube? Condoms?”
Mickey groaned, rolling his eyes. “Are they necessary?”
“The former no, the latter yes.”
Mickey sighed, sounding very put upon. “Nightstand drawer, if you must have one.”
Majid pinched his side for it, and admittedly Mickey did get to gape at his back muscles when he reached for the drawer, which was a bonus.
Majid shifted back so he was towering over him once again. Mickey wasn’t meek by any means, but Majid made him feel small, and it sent a hot stab of lust through him that almost had him coming in his panties.
“Look at you, so fucking hungry for it,” Majid cooed, settling on his knees between Mickey’s legs and admiring for a long moment. He reached down and cupped Mickey’s cock in his hand, dragging the soaked lace over the head of it. Mickey’s eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned with the sensation of it.
“You want me to fuck you, huh? Ruin your tight little pussy until you stain these panties with cum?”
“Yes! Please, fuck, stop teasing-” the words exploded out of Mickey, that was how desperate he was.
Majid chuckled and lifted Mickey’s hips with one hand, curving his hand along Mickey’s bruised ass to brush a finger over the tight pucker between his legs. Mickey hissed, trying to buck his hips back against that finger.
“Stay still,” Majid ordered, pinching him again. “I’m not fucking you dry.”
“I don’t need any-”
“You are not in charge here,” Majid said, glaring at him, “and if you don’t stop running your mouth, I will leave you here.”
Mickey whimpered at the thought, and Majid grinned, grabbing the lube and rubbing some on his fingers before jamming two of them in his ass. The sudden sensation made Mickey shriek, and Majid snorted at him. “You’re a little whore, Mickey.”
“Stop teasing and fuck me, c’mon, I’m ready for it-”
Majid snarled and tore the panties off of him hard enough that Mickey was momentarily worried they ripped.
Momentarily, because the next second saw Majid growling “You want it so bad? Fine, little slut-” and shoving his cock into Mickey in a single long thrust that burned.
Mickey screamed, and Majid’s smirk was evil as he started fucking him, hard and fast.
“You’re so fucking tight, shit, you needy little cock slut-”
Mickey couldn’t respond, his brain was full of fuck fuck fuck, and he didn’t actually think he could form a coherent sentence if he was being paid to do so.
“Come on Mickey,” Majid said, grabbing his cock in one hand, “come for me,”
Mickey’s world went white.
He startled awake at the sound of a zipper being pulled up and noticed that he was under the covers.
“You need a shower,” Majid said, pulling his shirt over his head. “I helped myself to a quick rinse, water’s still warm.”
“Leaving so soon?” Mickey purred, trying to be seductive but coming out hoarse. He frowned, and Majid laughed.
“I don’t think you could handle another round, Mouse.”
“Oh I know, but you said whatever suited me so,” Majid shrugged one shoulder, “I could keep calling you slut if you like?”
“Fuck off,” Mickey groaned, flopping back on the bed. Majid snorted again, rolling his eyes. “You should shower. You stink.”
“And who’s fault is that?” Mickey asked dryly. Majid snorted, shoving his shoes on. “Alright well, have fun, call me.”
“Call y-” Mickey sat up, but Majid was gone. He heard the front door close, and really, he was better than running after a one-night stand.
Even a magnificent one.
Mickey sighed and went into the bathroom, figuring he probably should wash up -- only to find his mirror completely fogged, a number with a dutch code drawn into the condensation.